Flesh and Blood, Sian Rosé [most difficult books to read TXT] 📗

low, pained sob rolled out from Minnie’s throat, her head snapped upwards to catch sight of her gnarled and shattered arm. Blood leaking from an already blackening patch of skin, where a sharp fragment of bone poked through.

“No…” she cried, thrashing her head, manically kicking out her legs at the monster who now threw back his head and erupted into an evil cackle of laughter.

“Come on now, I couldn’t have you stabbing me again,” Steve purred in delight, stroking the side of her face.

Her hands felt as though they were weighed down by dead weights, held in a vice-like grip by the torturous agony attacking her limbs.

“Fuck you!” she spat furiously up at Steve.

He laughed again and leaned down, showering her with a hot, damp mist of his sour odour, until their faces were so close together that he could whisper.

“No, sweetheart. I think you’ll find it’ll be me fucking you.”

Chapter Fifty

2019

Amazing, Ronnie couldn’t help but think to himself bitterly as he sat quietly in the corner of the Walter’s sitting room, holding a lukewarm cup of pale, speckled tea. After all this time, he felt just as small and unworthy as he had all of those years ago, whenever he’d been granted the honour of joining Minnie and her family for dinner.

Of course, they had never been allowed to be alone together at Minnie’s house, which meant that every memory that Ronnie had of the place was tainted by Henry’s booming, overbearing voice and Julie’s always-secretly-judging smiles.

The only difference between then and now was that Ronnie was joined by three of his kids, and Henry was confined to a wheelchair.

It was, even to Ronnie, who prided himself on having a cold, dark heart, a pathetic, depressing sight.

Henry was just one big fat slab of flesh wedged into the chair, his face and mouth crooked at one angle, unable to contribute anything of use to the conversation other than the occasional drip of spittle. Still, Ronnie felt the man’s eyes trained on him, cold and steely, watching his every breath.

Ronnie avoided looking at his estranged father-in-law at all costs.

“Are you in town for long?” Julie asked her daughter brightly, in a clearly botched attempt to sound breezy and indifferent as if it didn’t matter either way.

Minnie sat, unable to take her eyes off of her father, her hand clasped into his. She swallowed and shook her head distantly. “Just stopping by,” she muttered.

Paul took a loud, obnoxious swig of his drink and set it down on the coffee table. He narrowed his eyes across the room at Minnie, and Ronnie almost smirked in amusement at how the fellow had so quickly changed his demeanour. One moment the friendly gay bloke, the next the bitchy queer. “But that wasn’t originally your plan, was it?”

Minnie looked at him then, briefly sizing him up. Ronnie watched the familiar analytical look sweep over her face as her pupils flittered Paul up and down. Before she could speak, Ross chimed in.

“Sounds like Ronnie and Minnie don’t particularly live by plans,” he smiled, “what a great way to be.”

“Yes,” Paul drawled, “so fabulous to ghost your parents for twenty years.”

“Paul!” Julie snapped, shooting daggers at him. “Enough!”

But Minnie seemed unfazed. In fact, Ronnie knew she’d be getting a kick out of the challenge. She smiled at Paul, bright eyes gleaming. “You don’t know anything.”

Paul scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I know enough. I know you are both on the run…”

“Paul!”

“…what? It’s true, right? Burned a guy alive some years ago. Then just waltz back in here after letting your family believe you’re dead for all this time. Here are the real-life Bonnie and Clyde…”

Ross glared furiously at his husband. “Paul, there are kids present.”

Suddenly, Paul’s cheeks flushed red as he glanced over at Lloyd, Stella, and Zach, each of them sitting quietly beside their father, solemn-faced, absorbing every aspect of the situation like leeches.

“The past is the past,” Minnie said, maintaining the eerily wide smile. “I wasn’t planning on coming here because I was worried how my parents would react. Ross convinced me, and I’m glad he did.”

Julie sighed and rushed over to her daughter, enveloping her in a full, tight cuddle that honestly made Minnie’s skin crawl.

Paul’s expression hardened. He made a loud, clicking noise with his tongue and then stood up, brow furrowed. For a moment, he opened his mouth, then closed it again, then made as if he was going to turn away. But he stopped himself and suddenly took a few paces towards where Minnie was sitting. Ronnie felt his fists clench, but he kept still, biding his time, watching intently.

Paul moved his face towards Minnie and glowered down at her, his entire body quivering with rage.

“Do you have any idea how much pain you caused? Not just to your parents, but to your brother?” he whispered, every word alight with fury.

Minnie blinked up at him, her face void of any emotion.

Ross stood up then, before anybody else could speak, and gripped tightly onto Paul’s arm, pulling him away.

“It’s fine, whatever,” snapped Paul indignantly, yanking his arm away. “You all pretend like everything is fine and dandy. Like you can all just pick up where you left off.” He glared at his husband, “haven’t you forgotten what you said to me? What you all said to me?” he spun around then to shoot Julie a look.

When nobody spoke, Paul’s voice cracked into a humourless laugh.

“Fucking pathetic…” he muttered angrily beneath his voice before storming out of the room, calling out for Annie.

The atmosphere left in the living room remained cold, hard, and as sharp as ice. A few moments of silence passed, with Minnie maintaining her neutral smile, whilst Julie stared shamefully at her feet. Ronnie exchanged glances with his older kids, and Henry farted, then dribbled a bit more.

It was Ross who spoke first. He collapsed into the seat beside his sister and gripped her hand tightly, his face pleading. “Paul is just upset. He doesn’t understand. He has